#going out with a fittingly gorgeous final outfit | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nctsworld · 4 years ago

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in a king-size, say i’m your queen

✩‌ renjun ‌x‌ ‌reader‌ ‌|�� prince!renjun | fluff | smut | ‌3.4k

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ you’re drawn to the kingdom’s prince staying at your family’s inn. on the night before he leaves, you exchange good-byes in the form of a kiss and more. WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ ‌smut (near the end), unprotected s*x, f*ngering, oral s*x (m receiving), mentions of alcohol/drinking, commoner!reader, dash of angst RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ mature PROMPT ⇾‌ prince/royalty au // fluff + smut REQ BY ⇾‌ anonymous ‌

⇾‌ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!

“Prince Huang, this is my family, who will be looking after you during your stay.”

Your father awoke everyone from deep slumber in the middle of the night, hollering at everyone to put on their work clothes in a hurry. Little did anyone expect the actual prince himself to be taking a rest at your family’s inn, for several days apparently.

As the youngest and only daughter among your kin, your father introduces you last in line to greet the prince and his companions. With sleep still in your eyes, you curtsy as gracefully as you can, once towards the prince and another towards his followers.

The sleep in your eyes disappears as your eyelids suddenly bloom at your first clear look at the man standing a few steps across from you.

Everyone within the kingdom obviously knew of the royal family, but being this far from the mainland never granted you the chance to see them in-person. There were rumours far and wide of how captivating and beautiful the family was, especially the prince, but you assumed they were exaggerating, fueling the propaganda mill that all royalty were gorgeous, godly beings.

Oh, to be absolutely wrong.

Air’s snatched from your lungs when his warm smile burgeons, warming the room more than the fireplace ever could.

He holds his gaze on you, placing a palm on his chest and saying, “My dearest apologies for disturbing your dreams. It was a must though; we haven’t stopped anywhere in days and finally found your inn.”

Your father replies to his words, while you blink observantly at the royal figure. You wonder if it’s due to the lack of sleep or simply all in your head, but you swear his glances waver over at you more than your other family members.

“Well, I will retire to bed now and won’t be requiring your services until morning. Please resume your slumbers, and I wish you all the sweetest of dreams.”

Puffing his cheeks cutely, he bends his head slightly towards your family, while all of you dip and bow to him. When you two jointly look up, your gaze surely connects with his.

Funny enough, his wish comes true as his beauty rules over your dreams, molding them into sweet ones, for the rest of the night.

On the second morning of his stay, you watch him relaxing at the back of the inn among the luscious greenery. In a loose white-button up, he’s sitting by himself, save for a guard nearby, and lounging in a chair under the spring sun.

Prior to starting on your tasks for the day, you stroll towards him with a jug in hand. Smiling freely, his eyes are shut as you approach him.

“Sorry to disturb you, Your Royal Highness—”

His eyes flutter open at your divine voice and his smile deepens.

“But would you care for some lemon juice?”

The boyish man hums in acceptance and he’s glued to how you carefully pour the liquid into his chalice. His eyes track the path of your departure after you leave the jug on the table and head towards a group of trees in the farther end of the garden.

Though he delights in the picturesque image of you skillfully picking the yellow fruit, which he assumes are lemons, off the tree from your wooden ladder and dropping them into the bucket hanging from your hand, a desire simmers in his stomach to be in your presence. The prince's guard follows behind him discreetly as the handsome individual makes his way over and speaks to you from below.

“May I assist you?” he offers.

His appearance startles you for a moment, then your stare unintentionally drops over the exposed skin of his upper frame. You ponder over the smoothness of his skin and imagine yourself leaving kisses upon his clavicle, on his chest, going downward further and further...

Clearing your throat and shaking your head to focus, you airily laugh at his question. The highness’s eyebrows crease, perplexed by your response.

“Prince Huang—”

“Call me Renjun, please,” he interrupts, laying a palm against his chest. “I insist.”

“Prince Huang,” you reiterate, not wanting to breach the formalities. “It’s my duty—and an honor if I may add—to pick these lemons for you, not yours.”

“Well, as prince,” Renjun gently seizes the bucket away from your grasp. “I order you to allow me to assist you.”

Incredulously, you stare at him for a lingering moment and he engages equally, delving into your glowing aura.

Since you can’t reject his order, you yield and continue to pick the lemons off the tree, now plopping them into the bucket held by Renjun. Throughout the comfortable silence, he doesn’t take his eyes off of you for one second, admiring how elegant you are with the light breeze blowing through your hair.

He wonders to himself if you’re aware of your devastating beauty.

A couple of nights pass and during one evening, in the shared resting area, you find Renjun situated adjacent to the fireplace, reading a book alone (with a guard lurking close by, of course).

The prince’s features are already so soft, but he seems ethereal with the fire’s glow against his face. You’re reminded of the first night he arrived.

As you usually do, you query if he needs anything before you retire to your room.

He replies negatively, but then adds, “Would you like to hear some of the story I’m reading before bed?”

Shaking your head, you tuck some of your hair behind your ear. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose—”

“Not at all,” Renjun beams. He gestures for you to sit in the seat beside him, and you do so with prickling cheeks.

His fingers flip a few pages back and he tells the short story from the beginning. Your cheek tips into your palm as you listen intently. Yes, the story is intriguing, but you’re also focused on Renjun’s voice. It’s soothing, yet lively with the specific parts in which he modulates his tone to flow perfectly with the storytelling.

And then you drift over his plush, kissable lips. You will yourself to focus on the story, rather than the reader.

In between his reading, he peers up from the pages to see if you’re still interested to hear the rest of the story, not wanting to waste your time nor bore you to death. He reads the dazzling expression on your face as a signal to finish until the very end.

When it’s over, Renjun asks if you enjoyed it. You hum positively and stand up, excusing yourself to formally leave for the night. You exchange pleasant good-nights and sweet dreams. While you shuffle off, before you’re past the doorway, he pipes up—

“Perhaps I can read you another story tomorrow evening?”

You turn around by the end of his sentence, grasping onto the doorframe.

Renjun continues, his grip tightening around the closed book. “If you wish.”

Your lips press together, in hopes to suppress a grin. It doesn’t work too well.

“I’d like that very much.”

Time flies, and it’s already the second to last day before Renjun’s departure. Your family decides to arrange a party at the inn, inviting the fellow townspeople to join as well.

Fittingly, Renjun sits in the middle of the long table alongside his associates and is entertained by the spectacle of the event. After the townspeople grant him gifts and dinner is served, the dancing commences. Throughout the evening, he keeps a constant eye out for you.

All night, you serve the guests and barely have time to properly eat your own meal. However, as the night lengthens, your parents urge you to live a little. In the middle of the hall, you rush to unite with your close friends, clasping onto their hands and dancing around in circles to the merry music.

The royal figure radiates, enticed from the scene of you laughing and jumping in joy, having never seen this side of you before. His heart flops at the endearing sight and an itch overcomes him. Taking a sip of his wine, Renjun anxiously wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and heads towards you onto the dance floor.

Gasps trail behind his steps as he floats through the domino effect of bowing people. He casually says his thank you’s to everyone in passing and as the domino effect finally reaches a stop within the middle of the room, you’re the last one to formally greet him.

“Your Royal Highness,” you curtsy with a small smile.

He acknowledges with a bow of his head and shocks you by holding his palm out.

“May I share a dance with you?”

Your heart pounds in your ears as you glance around the room to ensure he’s talking to you and not mistakenly someone else. Additionally, you’re surveying the prospects because you are definitely not the most worthy to dance with royalty; the mayor’s daughter should be owed this dance, not you. You also shamefully touch your work outfit, wishing you were wearing something cleaner and more extravagant.

“Prince Huang, are you sure you want to dance with me?” you murmur, despite how everyone quieted down and can hear what you’re saying.

“Of course,” he stretches out for your hand and possesses it in his.

“Who else would I want to share a dance with?”

Your friends and all other parties now disperse and surround the two of you, dancing to their own fulfillment as you’re left in an imaginary bubble with just Renjun. Every twirl, spin, and bounce generates endless vivacious laughter from the both of you. You dance deeper into the night until your faces and feet soon ache, until it was almost only the two of you on the dance floor.

Because of the aching, you stumble at one point, crashing into Renjun’s body.

He catches you in his arms. You look up into his eyes, then at his lips merely fingertips away from yours. Renjun’s liquored panting fans your face and you drown in it without reservation.

His eyes flicker to your lips too, and he gulps. Bravely, he raises his palm to caress your cheek, but as his skin touches yours, it jolts you to your core, popping you out of your secluded bubble and dragging you into reality.

Pulling apart from him, the prince asks if you’re okay.

You nod thoughtlessly, quickly thank him for the dance, and spew that you should begin to clean-up the hall, leaving him on the dance floor.

Renjun brings a finger to his lips and watches you run off.

The last evening of his stay finally arrives. In your nightgown before bedtime, forgetting to ask if he needed anything before you changed out of your work clothes, you knock on his room’s door with the guard on-duty beside it.

His muffled voice beckons you to come in, and you open the door ajar to creep your head through the space. Noticing it’s you, he immediately drops the book he was reading onto his bedside table.

“Prince Huang, did you need anything else before you leave tomorrow?”

Legs dangling off the largest bed at the inn, he thinks to himself for a few moments. He twists his mouth to one side, tapping a finger on his chin.

“I think I have everything in order...”

Then, he tilts his head to one side and puckers his lips. He darts onto his feet and adds, “Can you come in for a moment though? And please shut the door behind you.”

You’re taken aback by his request. Nevertheless, you fulfill it and close the door behind you as you walk in. Renjun’s eyes widen at the sight of you in your nightgown, clicking together why you didn’t fully come into his room in the first place.

You rub one of your arms. “Sorry for my indecent clothing—”

“No, I’m sorry, uhm,” he palms the back of his neck nervously. “I just wanted to say a few words, so I’ll be quick.”

He steps closer to you. Both of you stand in the middle of the room and he continues.

“Before I leave, I want to make sure you know that I quite enjoyed my stay here because of you and your family’s fine service, but I enjoyed it even more because of your cordial company.”

At his earnest appraisal and personal compliment, your cheeks flare and your jaw dangles. You bow with your head. “Thank you, Prince Huang.”

Renjun then faces the floor and picks at his fingers, trying to formulate his thoughts.

“I don’t normally do this and I’m about to ask the following not as a prince, but as a normal man. And let me preface it by saying that, as a man of my word, you are not obligated or pressured to agree to what I’m about to ask; you have every right to say no.”

He sputters everything so fast, it takes a bit for you to process his words. When it sinks in, you’re still unsure exactly what he’s talking about. Worried, you raise your eyebrows, anticipating his inquiry.

Noting your confusion, he exhales a lengthy breath and goes straight to the point.

“As a send-off and to demonstrate my gratitude…”

He meets your gaze.

“May I kiss you?”

Your jaw, along with your eyes, hangs this time. Awestruck, you blink rapidly and inhale sharply as you stay frozen in place.

“I know it may be one-sided, but at yesterday’s gathering, I thought we shared a special moment and perhaps it’s my fault I acted upon it since we were among people, so I apologize for that—”

“You may kiss me,” you cut him off, relieved to hear his thoughts, and close the space between yourselves.

It’s his turn to don the rapid blinking.

“Are-are you sure?”

Cautiously, his palm cups your cheek, mirroring the memory of last night, then he adds his other.

“Yes, Pr-”

“Renjun, please.”

“Yes, Renjun—”

You collide as he captures your lips. He exudes innocence and it shows in his kissing; he starts off gently and barely expands his mouth. Each movement is lovely and oozes affection. Your fingers tug lightly at his nightwear, body humming emphatically in response.

However, as he tests the water, his kissing is soon stripped of innocence and is replaced by a sinful hunger. While his tongue slips into your mouth, grazing against your teeth, his hands traverse your body and confront your waist and neck, squeezing them upon arrival. You eagerly reciprocate his change of pace, desperately running your fingers through his hair and angling your neck to better the searing, open-mouthed kisses.

Since there aren’t many layers covering either of you, you’re blatantly aware of Renjun’s growing desire against your body.

Pressing his forehead against yours, he pants, “May I take you to bed?”

You bob your head fervently and croak, “Yes.”

“Yes…?”

You grin into the next kiss at his playfulness.

“Yes, Renjun.”

In retrospect, being taken in a guest room at your family’s inn was strange, but you couldn’t think much of it within the moment.

At the moment, all you yearn for is Renjun’s weight on you, locking your body into the bed with his. Lip-locked as he lays you down, he satisfies your yearning hastily.

While he dominates your neck, one of his hands is rashly underneath your nightgown and ascends to the haven of your breasts. You gasp at the initial contact, your fingers tightening in his hair and over his shoulder blade.

He kneads the meat of your tits momentarily, but he’s more fixated on attending to your nipples. Renjun’s thumb tenderly rubs over them prior to his loving pinches. At this point, his mouth zones in and nibbles on your earlobe, so he listens to your rising panting and erotic moans crystal clear.

Following his massaging and playing of your other breast, he withdraws from you to disrobe your layer in one-go and you return the favour to peel away his.

Renjun’s purity ignites once more as he reveres your bare body, lovingly scanning all your curves and lines.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he whispers.

Fluttering your eyelids, you lightly bite your bottom lip between your teeth. Truly, it was too easy for him to make your cheeks spark this often. He converges with your mouth sweetly before he wraps his pretty lips around your nub.

“Oh, my God, Renjun—”

Because your eyes snap in gratification, you can’t see the smirk on his face. He indulges in you calling him by his first name, especially so melodiously and within this context. A hand finds purchase upon the neighbouring breast, and another hovers under your warmth. Your hips buck heedlessly, begging for his fingers to dive further.

They do so when he switches his embrace upon your breasts. Although you know he must feel it, the obscene, loud sounds of him fingering your sex confirm how wet you are for him. Renjun peeks an eye open to your wanton self. He adores the view in addition to your dripping pleasure contracting and spilling over his digits.

Moving ahead, he retreats from you and mounts himself on the bed on his knees, stroking himself to harden himself for what’s to come. Despite still being breathless from your high, you rise onto your knees to match his stance in front of him.

Your dominant hand grasps his possession, taking over for him. Simultaneously, your mouth finally has the chance to reign over the smoothness of his frame—his neck, his carved clavicle, the expanse area of his chest, and his soft abdomen. He sighs blissfully, eyes batting.

Your mouth proceeds lower to where your hand is located and aids to the swelling of Renjun’s desire. He gawks, mouth hanging, at the beautiful arching of your back and your enthusiasm as you engulf him.

Gripping him by the base, you stroke to the measure of your bobbing. To keep him enraptured, you occasionally focus on his tip, such as with the swirling and flicking of your tongue and initiating vigorous, targeted sucking. Not wanting him to reach climax yet, you pull away from him with a pop, but not before you leave a delicate kiss upon the glossy apex.

Once again, you recline downward onto the bed, except now with spread legs. Renjun pumps his wet length and lines it up with your glistening crevice. You stare at his cock upon penetration, and the flood of sensations from the impact causes you to crane your head into the pillow.

Hands encompassing your waist, the lover thrusts gradually at first, allowing you to acclimatize to his girth. After some time, he surrenders to his carnal urges and plunges deeper with speed. Your chest heaves as your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving half-moons on his skin. Lowering himself, he secures your lips for a fleeting, sentimental moment.

To your surprise, Renjun picks up the rhythm even further, leading you to wail his name and incoherent noises repeatedly. In hopes to quell yourself, you lightly bite down on the meat of your index finger. It only partially helps since whimpers still trickle out from you.

Both of you are nearing. Aching to be even more intimate with you, his hand flees from the flank of your body and over your head to lace his fingers with yours. His intertwining compresses alongside the pinching of his face. With your finger in pain, you release it and let loose. As one, you moan in sync with Renjun and you break together. He extracts himself, painting your stomach in white ribbons.

Inhaling much needed air, you settle upon Renjun’s chest with his arm around you. He trifles with your fingers in his before he kisses the back of your hand.

“If you ever have the chance to come by the kingdom, I implore you to find me.”

Peering up at him, you agree enthusiastically. “Of course, Renjun.”

With pink tinting over his face, he cups you by your chin.

“Promise?”

Hesitancy pumps through your blood. You know the chances of you ever leaving your home town would be very unlikely, and even if you could, you two could never be together for he is of royal blood, and you of none.

Nevertheless, you dare not to break the twinkling, awaited expression upon his face, so you reply—

“I promise.”

Sharing another kiss, you stay with him in the bed for a little while longer, savoring the brief amour as much as possible.

966 notes · View notes

euphoriyoongi · 3 years ago

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♥︎ So this is Love ♥︎ k.s.j

A Cinderella Story

Requested by: @baby-mochi123

♥︎ Summary:

As an orphan living with your late fathers disgrace of a wife and two step sisters, you’re hidden away from the world. That is, until the King gets inpatient for grandchildren, and invites all maidens to the royal ball.

♥︎ Genre: royalty au, Cinderella-themed, love at first sight, comedy

♥︎ Word count: 5.6k

♥︎ Warnings: none

m.list

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once upon a time in a far away land, there was tiny kingdom…

Ever since your father died, life has been rough.

You could barely remember the times you used to play in the grass fields with your mother, or the time you ripped the bottom of your dress as you fell.

Those memories were distant. Nearly gone. Your father remarried after your mother died, and the woman he married was more of a devil than anything. She would act all sweet to you when your father was around, but behind closed doors she disgraced and belittled you.

When your father passed away, she became more evil than before, which was hard to imagine. She was already so terrifying, but now it seemed as though she had something against you.

You were fully grown now, able to do everything for yourself. But yet, you were forced to like in a crammed attic of their home, while your two step sisters enjoyed lavish rooms and jewelry. It was unfair, but you made yourself worth living. With all of the chores and the dust and dirt you'd have to clean up every day, you still had your pride.

You lived in solidarity up and away from the vicious people you could never call family, and the only friends you could call your own were the rats that populated the walls.

The terribly loud clock broke you away from your slumber and bells began to ding, signaling it was time to make breakfast. They forced to go serve them as they lay in bed, and all you wanted was to be able to eat what you made. There would only ever be enough for the three of them and their cat—which was fittingly named Lucifer—and never any for you. That was probably why you were so thin.

"Y/n!!" Your stepmother's voice bellowed through the walls continuously, hailing you to begin her breakfast. She always yelled like she was going to starve if you didn't get it to her in time which wasn't true. She was bigger-boned and had plenty of meat on her bones, and always concealed it with a super tight corset that she would claim her real waist.

"Y/n?! Where's breakfast?" Your step sister screeched at you from her bedroom as you walked by. You ignored her and continued to walk to the kitchen. "Hey! Don't ignore me! Mother, Y/N is ignoring me again!"

You continued to walk to the kitchen and once you got there you began to prepare breakfast. You scrambled up the food and poured tea, and then placed it on 3 plates to bring to them.

As you brought them all their breakfast, your stepmother beckoned you to come into her room. Before you entered, your two ugly step sisters blocked the door. "You're gonna get it bad, Y/N."

You brushed them off again and made your way through the double doors or your stepmother's room, the cat following you in.

The cat glided it's way through the dark room and jumped onto the large bed, curling up into the arms of a dark looking figure. She didn't speak.

"Stepmother—"

"Shut it." She hissed as she pet her cat, who was as dark as the room. His eyes were the only visible part of him. "Seems like you have a lot of time on your hands. Let's put it to good use."

You stayed silent and listened to what she had to say. You knew it was going to be chores, and you just wished you could have some alone time to yourself.

"You have full chore duty today. That includes folding the laundry, washing dishes, scrubbing to floors, sewing your step sisters' dresses and oh—don't forget the garden."

You sighed. "Yes Step-mother."

You had no way out of it. It was all you could do to respect your father.

You could've swore you saw the cat smirk. "Oh yes, one more thing. Don't forget to bathe the cat."

Over the hill was the large grandeur of a palace, where the king and his son lived.

The king was getting impatient, wondering when his son would give him grandchildren. He wasn't getting any younger, and wished to see children before he passed.

Kim Seokjin, the only prince of the kingdom, hasn't even had the thought of settling down yet. He wasn't as young as he used to be, but he thought no one could be his match. The prince was away on business, but was coming home tonight.

His father decided to send out invitations to every eligible maiden in the kingdom to a royal ball, hoping at least one of them will catch his eye.

So it wouldn't seem suspicious, he figured he could plan this ball for his return, and have all the women there for him.

Tonight was the night he planned for the ball. He then sent out all the invitations, hoping for the best.

As you were scrubbing the floor, a thin piece of paper slid through the mail slot on the door and landed right at your feet. You picked it up and didn't bother reading it, you weren't the best at reading anyway. You did notice it was from the palace.

Your step family was upstairs as they were practicing their music skills and you walked up the stairs to interrupt.

You knocked softly, but your step mother screamed as you entered. "Y/n! What did I say about interrupting—"

"This just came from the palace!" You excitedly murmured, and held your hand out for your step mother to grab it.

"There's to be a ball...every eligible maiden is to attend!" She cried out and looked to her daughter's who were jumping up and down.

"We're both eligible!!" They screamed simultaneously, happily shaking the floorboards.

Your eyes lit up when you heard what she said. "That means I can go, too!" You said, covering your mouth with your hand in excitement.

One of your step sisters snickered. "Yeah, right! Her dancing with our prince! That's impossible.

"Greetings your highness, would you mind holding my broom." The other sister giggled as she mocked you.

After their laughs ended, you spoke up again. "Well, why not? I am part of the family. And it says by royal command..."

The sisters looked at each other and then at their mom. "Well...I can't see why you couldn't go..." she stared down at the piece of paper. "If you get all your work done and find something suitable to wear.."

"Yes step mother I sure will!" You smiled as you made your way out. "Thank you."

You ran as fast as you could up the steps to plan your outfit, knowing you have your mothers old dress locked away in a chest.

You noticed it was a bit outdated, so you looked through your sewing book to see any changes you could make to it.

Just as you finally thought you reached happiness it faded away just as quickly as it happened. You were beckoned again to start your chores and now you wouldn't have nearly enough time to sew the dress.

As you worked your ass off to clean and get things done, time flew. You thought you didn't have a change at going to the ball now, especially when you heard the carriage reach the chateau. You sighed. As if your day couldn't get any worse. Your step mother opened her door when she heard you walk by. "Y/nN my dear, why aren't you dressed?"

Your two step sisters peaked out of the doorframe, awaiting your answer. "Ah, I'm not going."

They all smirked, but tried to cover it. "That's too bad. Maybe next time." She cooed and shut the door to get her daughters ready.

You made your way back up to your humble living space, and your shoulders were hunched as you walked up the stairs. You really thought you had a chance for yourself this time. You hated being someone's maid, and you wished things would be different. You had hoped this was the chance to break out of your shell and this house and follow your dreams. Dreams of meeting your one and only true love.

As you entered your room you peered out the window, staining at the tree branches that blocked the moonlight. You sighed, deep in thought.

A sudden creek came from your closet, and the door began to open slowly. You nearly screeched when you saw a dozen rats run out of it, but when your eyes landed on the gorgeous dress that was hung up, you glanced at the little rodents.

"How the hell did you do that? Was that some kind of sorcery?" You stared at the dress with wide eyes, trying to figure out how tiny rats were able to stitch and sew. Maybe you were going crazy. "Thank you..I guess." You said sincerely, but still couldn't wrap your mind around it all.

You rushed to get ready and tossed on all your accessories, including a beautiful jade necklace that sat on the corner of your desk. You were unsure about how it got there, but figured it was the rats with superpowers and carried on with your plans.

You rushed down the stairs as you noticed that they were about to open the door to leave. "Wait for me!" You yelled as you ran, hoping they wouldn't give you any trouble. "I'm ready."

"Mother you can't let her go! It's not fair!" The ugliest sister growled as she tossed her hands in the air.

The other sister huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "This is disgraceful!"

"Now girls...a promise is a promise." Your step mother smirked as she neared you, reaching a hand out to cradle your jade necklace. "Isn't this beautiful, what do you think—"

"No it's ugly—wait! That's my necklace! She stole it!" She hissed reaching out towards it. "Gimme that!" As she grabbed onto it she yanked it, and the necklace broke, sending all the beads to dance across the floor.

You gasped as that happened, and the other sister barely gave you enough time to get a grip when she began to tear your dress from bottom to top. They both aggressively tried to tear it apart, not a care in the world about how you felt about it. It was your mothers dress after all, and now all that's left is the torn fabric that fell from your shoulder.

"Girls, girls. Let's not be too hasty. I don't want you upsetting yourselves." Your stepmother softly spoke, side-eying you as if she didn't see the whole debacle. "Let's go, we'll be late." She said, leaving you all alone in the large empty house, torn to pieces.

You couldn't help but start to cry. You tried your best to be able to go, even trusted rats to fix up your dress. But now your dress was ruined and you were crying, subconsciously finding yourself in the garden under your favorite willow tree.

"It's just no use at all.." you cried out as you laid your head down onto the bench, kneeling. "There's nothing left to believe in anymore."

You let your tears fall, completely oblivious to the bench that somehow turned into the lap of a man. His hand softly stroke your head, listening to you cry.

"Nothing? You don't really mean that, right?" His soothing voice spoke out, and you'd think it would've broke you out of your funk, but it didn't. You still sat there with your head in his lap and cried.

"Yeah, I do mean that—"

"No you don't, or I wouldn't be here." He shrugged and you finally realized something wasn't normal. You sat yourself back and gasped at the boy in front of you. He had dazzling blue hair and eyes to match, with a beautiful pink gown on. He looked very feminine and approachable. Sparkles danced around his figure and he held something that looked like a wand in his right hand.

"Wha—" you rubbed your eyes, trying to understand was was in front of you. First it was artsy rats, now...a fairy?!

He reached around your arms and slowly lifted you up. "Okay, you definitely can't go to the ball looking like...that." He clicked his tongue and shook his head. "We have to hurry."

He glanced around, almost as if he was trying to find something. "Now what did I do with that damn wand, I swear I lose it every time.."

Your eyes widened. "Wand? Then you must be—"

"Your fairy godfather—god that's so strange to say. How bout your god-daddy" he shook his head as he covered his mouth. "Wait no that sounds to provocative. Just call me Jimin." He smiled, and then continued to look for his wand.

You glanced at his right hand, which held a long stick-like thing. "Uh...is that it? In your hand?"

"Now who do you take me for? Im not that dumb I—wait, you're right. I guess I am that dumb." He scratched his head in embarrassment and shook it off. "Okay. I say the first thing you need is a pumpkin."

"A..pumpkin?" You questioned, glancing over at the pumpkin patch that was part of the garden.

"Yes. Now what we're the magic words?" He wondered out loud, scratching his chin. "Ah! Bippity boppity boo bitch!"

And just as ridiculous as the magic words were, a grand carriage blossomed from the pumpkin. You were at a loss for words as you glanced from the carriage to Jimin, shaking your head in astonishment. "How'd you do that?"

He smiled. "Magic, I guess." He said not too confidently, looking from you to the little rats around your feet. "Now you need horses."

You looked down and the rats and giggled. You could've sworn you were in a fever dream right now. How was all of this possible?

With the flick of his wrist, Jimin turned the cute little rats into large white horses, standing high and mighty as they were ready to pull the carriage.

You didn't even take notice to an actual horse that stood next to Jimin, patiently waiting to have his turn with magic. "Now you need a coachman.." he muttered and waved his wand at the horse, transforming it into a human man. He sat at the reins of the horses, ready to go.

"Okay what the hell is going on here?" You blinked frantically as you tried to understand what was happening in front of you. How could such a gorgeous man be a fairy, and how could said gorgeous man turn a horse into a person?

Maybe you were high or something.

"Aha. Now, it's your turn." He turned to you with his wand and winked. He looked you up and down and bit his lip, then looked into your eyes. "You're super hot and all, but that dress is a no no."

He waved his wand up to the sky and did a little twirl, and you couldn't help but chuckle at how ridiculous he looked. But all of a sudden a large wave of sparkles encased your body, spiraling around you with high speed. You looked down in confusion, then when it all stopped, what was left was a beautiful silvery-blue dress that sparkled as much as the stars.

"Woah..." you breathed, spinning around in it. It was absolutely stunning, you didn't even want to question how he did it. He then fixed up your hair and makeup, and last but not least, your shoes.

You had a weird shoe size. It was a bit too small for your body, so most of the time it was hard to find ones that fit. So when Jimin magically put sparkling glass heels onto you, you gasped in disbelief.

They sparkled even more than the dress, but all in all you sparkled more than the night sky. "This is like a dream.." you murmured in awe.

"Okay, I'm done." He chuckled, crossing his hands across his chest. "Just one more thing."

"What is it?" You asked him, on edge to go to the palace.

"This is all a façade, okay? Just like all dreams, it won't last forever." He looked into your eyes. "It won't last after midnight. Everything will go back to how it was before."

You nodded. At least that gave you enough time to try to meet the prince. "Okay. I'll be out of the palace before that."

He nodded, then gasped and it nearly scared you. "Okay, you gotta go or you'll be late."

He shooed you into the carriage and as you sat down, the horses that were once rats took off, leaving Jimin in the dust. When you looked back you noticed his little wave, then all of a sudden he disappeared into thin air, making this whole situation even weirder.

When you approached the castle, you noticed how grand it was. With it standing so tall it looked like it hit the clouds, and the beautiful stones that held it all together. This was a dream in life itself that sadly had to end, but you were going to make the most of it.

Currently inside the palace, the king organized all of the women to be introduced to the prince one by one. But everytime a promising woman would walk up, it was almost as if he would yawn at the sight of them.

The prince stood tall in the great hall, barely giving any women a second glance. He didn't want any of them, and just wanted to find someone himself. His father and the arch duke sat up high on the balcony, looking down on the scene. Seokjin looked up, noticing how aggravated his father looked.

You approached the grand steps to enter the ballroom, the sides lined with guards. You looked over at them when you noticed they were looking at you, and continued your walk up a hundred red-velvet covered stairs.

Your step sisters were currently being introduced, you took notice to that as you walked into the room. The far side wall was open, leaving only the beautiful night sky to be viewed. What you didn't take notice of was that the prince stopped in his tracks and was standing at you wide eyed.

Seokjin couldn't help himself. The two girls that were in front of him were such a bore. When he bowed respectfully to them and straightened up he noticed you, where you were directly in his line of vision with the dark sky surrounding you, making it seem like you were sparkling.

He had to meet you. The way you spun around to music that wasn't even being played or the way he just glanced at you once and could've sworn he fell in love, he knew he had to at least know your name.

He pushed past the two sisters and stepped toward you, determined to make you his bride.

He reached out a hand towards your shoulder. "Hello, miss?" Jin said politely, his dark hair pushed up to reveal his forehead. "How come I don't know who you are?"

His father took notice to his interest, and hurriedly signaled the band to play the waltz.

When the music ran through the room, you didn't even have time to answer him. He was breathtakingly beautiful, almost like a prince. Little did you know that he was one.

"Would you like to dance with me?" He asked you and held onto you hand, raising it to kiss the back of it.

You shivered in delight, knowing you fell for him at first sight. It seemed like he did, too. So much for marrying a prince, you didn't care who this guy was at this moment. "I'd love to."

He held your hand as you both made your way to the center of the ballroom, watching all of the women cry in disbelief.

He slid his hands down to your waist and you held your hands onto his shoulders. You moved in sync, your lips just a few inches away from his. His eyes were stunningly dark and mysterious with hair to match. His lips were plump, almost pillow-like and you wondered how they would feel against yours.

You couldn't get enough of him, you were lost in him. In his touch, in his eyes, in his heart. He was also captivated by you and had no doubt you were the one out of all these women.

"Who is she, mother? I've never seen her before." The step sister asked as she tried to get a good look of you from the crowd.

"We'll Ive never—wait a minute...something is familiar about her." Your stepmother wondered, but before she could get a good look, they moved their way out onto the terrace, now all alone without anyone watching.

After the dance was over he held you in his arms, brushing a stray strand away from your face. He smiled at you when he noticed your blush.

He grabbed your hand, holding onto it tightly as he took you into the garden, both of you in bliss.

You both sat down on the edge of a large fountain, not taking notice to the clock behind it. It was nearing midnight, but you were so lost in his charm that you didn't even pay attention.

He sat next you you closely, and looked from your eyes to your lips. "You're beautiful. I hope you know that." He said to you as he leaned in farther. "So, so beautiful."

His lips grazed yours softly, but before it could turn into a kiss, the clock struck twelve behind you, bellowing a loud noise. You whipped your head around and noticed the time. "Oh my god!"

You stood up abruptly, and his hand that was on your thigh flew up as you stood. "What's wrong?" He wondered with worry, noticing how frantic you were.

"It's midnight!" You cried, holding onto your dress like it was going to disappear.

"Yeah..so.." he trailed off, hoping that this night would go farther.

You shook your head and turned to leave. "I have to go." You said sadly, but his hand grabbed yours before you could run off.

"You can't leave now—"

"I have to!" You said as you looked frantically back and forth, hoping nothing would disappear right now.

"But why?" He asked softly. He didn't want you to leave. He had so much more he wanted to say to you, he didn't even know your name.

You had to make up an excuse. "I—uh...the prince! I haven't met the prince yet!" You said and nodded. "Yeah, that's right."

"The..prince?" He asked. Didn't she know it was him? "But didn't you know that I—"

The clock bellowed again, sending you hurriedly looking for the way out. "Goodbye!" You said and bowed, and ran off back into the palace to find your way down those beautiful velvet steps.

"Wait! I don't even know your..." he trailed off as he ran after you. "Name.."

Before he could catch you, all the women blocked his leave and surrounded him, all blabbing something he wasn't paying attention to. All he saw was the beautiful girl he fell in love with run down the stairs, only leaving a glass heel behind.

You ran out of the palace and jumped into your carriage which was thankfully still intact. It rode off and it started to slowly change.

The carriage began to soften like how it was before and transitioned into a large pumpkin, and the horses morphed back into the small rats they once were. Everything was a blur and all of a sudden you fell to the ground with a thud, picking yourself up and scurried with the animals to hide in the forest as the palace guards ran straight, smashing the pumpkin that was once a carriage.

It was quiet now, you stared down at your tattered dress. The cute little rats stood by your feet, trying to get you to notice that you still had one glass slipper. It didn't disappear with the rest of it.

That was all you had left of that night, and you went back home holding it tightly, dreaming about the man you nearly kissed.

The next morning the prince paced back and forth in his room, trying to figure out a way to find her.

Seokjin was never like this. He was always calm and collected, but something ticked in his mind when he met you. He needed to find a way to get you back into his arms. He didn't even get to kiss you.

He held the heel you left behind in his hand and came up with a great idea. He needed to have this heel reach every maiden's household to see if it fit. The problem is, it could fit any number of the girls. He’d just have to wish for the best. His father would never let him out of the palace to do it himself though.

The grand duke was willing. After figuring out the plans, the duke took off to find the girl of the prince's dreams.

“Y/N!” Your stepmother cried out angrily. “Where are you?” She paced up the stairs but stopped as soon as she heard you.

“I’m right here.” She spoke out as you exited one of the rooms downstairs. She always seemed to rush you even if you were doing a great job.

“Where are the girls?” The looked anywhere but you as she asked this, only ever worrying about her own daughters.

You set down the broom you had in your hand and sighed. “They’re still sleeping.”

She rushed up the steps in anxiousness and you wondered what was the matter. You walked into the kitchen and grabbed the tea for them quickly and ran upstairs, only to overhear their conversation.

“What’s wrong, mother?” Both the sisters were in the same room, both tired and yawning up a storm.

“He’ll be here any minute!” She rushed, pulling back the curtains to bring light inside the room.

“Who?” They asked simultaneously with a yawn.

“The grand duke. He’s been hunting all night.” She rooted through her daughter’s wardrobe. “For that girl! The one that lost her slipper at the ball last night. Apparently he’s madly in love with her.”

“The duke?” One of them asked, only to be interrupted loudly.

You walked into the doorway at this moment, looking back and forth at the sisters and your stepmother.

“No, the prince!”

You stopped in your tracks. So that man you met—the man you nearly kissed—was the prince?

You gasped. “The prince?” The glass teapot that was in your hands slipped through your fingers, sending shards all over the floor.

“You clumsy fool! Clean that up!”

You couldn’t even pay attention or acknowledge the fact that you were spoken to. The only thing you did was slowly fall to the floor and clean it it without paying close attention. You couldn’t believe it. You…met the prince?

“Why are you telling us this then? If he’s so in love with that other girl?”

Your stepmother side glanced you and continued to root through the wardrobe. “Because not even the prince knows who she is. The glass slipper is the only clue. So one of you must fit into it.”

You glanced up as you cleaned the mess, listening intently to what was going on. “The grand duke was ordered to try it on every maiden in the kingdom. If the shoe fits, that girl will be the prince’s bride by order of the king!”

“Bride?” You whispered in shock, still unable to wrap this around your head.

As the sisters clashed together in search for clothing you saw yourself out, blissfully dancing to the door to your room.

Your stepmother watched you as you swayed, and she narrowed her eyes. Something was certainly fishy about you, and she didn’t have the time to let you become someone better than her daughters. She sneaked up the stairs and peaked through the door, watching you as you sang lovingly in the mirror.

You coughed of glimpse of her in the corner of your eye and turned around, only to see her slide the key into her pocket and lock the door, slamming it.

“No no no!” You cried out, running to the door. “You can’t leave me in here!” You banged on it with your fists as hard as you can, only to hear her footsteps slowly disappear.

You set your back against the door and slid down to the floor. How were you supposed to meet the prince now? How would he ever find you?

You lost all your hope. When you heard the trumpets sound that the duke was here, your heart dropped to your stomach. You let a few tears fall, upset that no one here would even care enough about you. It spoke a thousand words when your step mother locked the door on you, not caring if you needed anything, or to be happy for you if it was your slipper.

The duke came into the house and glanced down at the two sisters who definitely weren’t the prince’s cup of tea. He still had to do his job anyway. He read out the decree and told the older sister to sit down first to try it on. When the glass slipper seemed like it fit like a glove he stood back in awe, that is, until she lifted her foot up and it was only covering half of it.

Meanwhile, the magic rats were up to something. The smallest one was able to gently slide into your stepmother’s pocket. The others stood by and were able to reach it when the small rat lifted it up. They hurriedly rushed the key up the stairs, but it was a bit heavy for them. This was going to take a while.

The duke sighed and shook his head. “Let’s try the next young lady.”

The next sister tried to forcibly squeeze her way into it. She kept complaining that her foot was just swollen today and kept trying. The duke sat there with a frown, knowing that it wasn’t either of these girls. “Are you sure there isn’t another maiden in this household?” He asked you stepmother, grabbing onto the heel and keeping it safe.

The rats were tired, but were able to reach the top of the steps. Now it was time for you to shine.

“No, there’s no one else here—“

“Your grace! Wait!” You cried and rushed down the grand steps of the chateau. “May I try it on?”

The duke’s eyes widened as he took notice to your appearance and smiled. He signaled his servant forward as you reached the bottom of the stairwell.

Your stepmother rolled her eyes. “Don’t pay attention to her.”

“She’s just y/n! A nobody!”

“Madam.” He stood sternly next to your stepmother. “My orders were every maiden. Now if you would excuse me.”

He motioned you to sit down in the chair and beckoned his servant to bring the glass slipper towards you. As he came closer, your stepmother stuck her foot out, only to come to the servant tripping, which sent the glass slipper flying through the air until it smashed right before your feet.

You weren’t too worried about it—since you had the other slipper—but the duke nearly cried and he tried to piece it together. “No no no, this is terrible!” He cried out. “What could we do?”

You smiled at him and then glanced to your stepmother, who was smirking. You always new she was no good for you. But now you were done. “Perhaps..if it would help?” You slid the other slipper out from behind you. “The other slipper?”

He gasped and grabbed ahold of it excitedly. He reached down to slide it onto your foot, and when it fit, he breathed a sigh of relief. The prince could finally be happy.

Bells chimed and people cried out as you rushed down the stairs of the palace in your grand wedding Dress, holding onto Seokjin’s hand tightly with a smile. This was a dream come true. A fairy tale. Everything worked out for you at the end of it.

Here you were in the back of a carriage taking you both somewhere for alone time, but you couldn’t help but blush as his hands cradled your face. “I’m so glad I found you, y/n.”

You stared lovingly into his eyes, glancing down at his lips slightly. “I’m so glad you wanted to find me, Seokjin.”

He stared at you like no one has ever before. He looked at you with such intent it nearly made you melt. His eyes glanced from your eyes to your lips and once again he leaned it for a kiss, this time actually happening.

His lips softly touched yours, slowly moving into you as his hands cradled your face like you were glass. You wrapped your arms around his neck to deepen this kiss, so in love with each other.

All this struggle, and now here you were in each others arms, happily in love and wishing it would never end.

And they lived happily ever after.

#bts #bangtan sonyeondan #bts fanfic #bts jin #kim seokjin #cinderella #bts post #bts one shot #jin x reader #park jimin

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newmusickarl · 4 years ago

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Album & EP Recommendations

Album of the Week: Chemtrails Over The Country Club by Lana Del Rey

For years, American singer songwriter Lizzie Grant, AKA Lana Del Rey, had always threatened to, but never quite delivered her classic album. From breaking onto the scene in 2011 up until her brilliant but uneven Lust For Life album, she had built up a catalogue of truly great songs, but her own masterpiece had ultimately alluded her. That however all changed a couple of years ago in 2019, when Lana finally delivered the simply magnificent, Norman Fucking Rockwell (NFR). That album was Lana’s magnum opus, a poignant collection of modern American anthems that people will still be listening to at the end of the next decade.

That year, NFR would go on to top multiple year end critics’ lists, as well as featuring in the Top 20 and Top 50 of almost a hundred others. This includes myself, as I had NFR in the number three spot on my Albums of the Year list for 2019. The big question is then, how do you follow up a record as universally acclaimed and as masterfully crafted as that album? This is the question Lana emphatically answers on Chemtrails Over The Country Club, her eighth studio album which feels almost as special as the one that preceded it.

Having worked with a range of producers on her albums up until NFR, it is almost as if Lana just needed the right one to unlock the full potential of her unique style. She got that with Jack Antonoff, who really does an incredible job of knowing exactly when to flesh out the instrumentation or strip it back and put Lana’s voice front and centre – something he has since gone on to replicate with Taylor Swift on their recent folklore/evermore collaborations. Thanks to him, Lana really has never sounded better and the duo pick up right where they left off on NFR here on Chemtrails.

That said, where there were moments of expansive, almost cinematic production on NFR, on Chemtrails almost everything here is stripped back to basics. The instrumentation is minimal, with most of the songs on this collection putting Lana’s magical, timeless vocals against a simplistic backdrop of just a piano or an acoustic guitar. It ultimately makes for some of Lana’s most mesmeric and emotionally resonant songs to date, such as the sublimely nostalgic opener White Dress. Easily a career highlight, Lana adopts some sumptuous hushed, whispery vocals, reminiscing with her listener about her life before superstardom. An absolutely stunning track, that is then swiftly followed up by the equally gorgeous title track, which boasts another stellar vocal performance from Lana and a dizzyingly delightful waltzing melody.

There are just career-best moments littered across Chemtrails, with the country-tinged Wild At Heart and acoustic-driven Not All Who Wander Are Lost particularly standing out. The latter of these sees Lana deliver a sterling falsetto on the track’s first chorus, with the production giving off almost a live concert feel. At a tight 11 tracks in length there’s no space for any duff tracks either. Instead, Chemtrails packs in 10 faultless songs before fittingly culminating in Lana’s breathtakingly beautiful collaboration with her contemporaries, Zella Day and Weyes Blood, on the brilliant For Free.

All in all, expectations were impossibly high for Lana Del Rey’s follow up to Norman Fucking Rockwell, and although my initial feeling is that this record doesn’t quite match that album, it comes pretty damn close - which is still an incredibly high standard to reach. This is easily one of the best albums of the year so far and with another album, Rock Candy Sweet, supposedly due for release in June, 2021 looks set to belong to Lana in the same way 2019 did.

Songs From Isolation by A.A. Williams

If you’re looking for something similar after checking out Del Rey’s Chemtrails Over The Country Club, then look no further than the magnificent covers collection from British singer-songwriter A.A. Williams. Most artists would tremble in fear at the thought of covering iconic tracks by The Cure, Pixies, Smashing Pumpkins, Nick Cave, Radiohead and The Moody Blues to name but a few, however A.A. Williams isn’t most artists. Armed with just her piano and her hauntingly beautiful vocals, Williams takes on these titanic tracks head on, not only doing them all justice but delivering gorgeous, stripped back and original takes in the process.

House of Balloons by The Weeknd

Elsewhere this week, The Weeknd celebrated the 10 year anniversary of his breakout mixtape by releasing it on streaming services for the first time in its original form. If you are only familiar with The Weeknd’s later more popular releases, it is worth diving into this one and seeing how it all began, with an album that still more than holds up a decade later.

Horror Show by The Midnight

On the EP front, Electronic group The Midnight released Horror Show this week, a six-track release simply drenched in retro 80s nostalgia. From the neon-tinged synths and soaring electric guitar solos to the fun cover of Patti Smith’s Because The Night, this EP will have you grinning from ear to ear and wanting to take a trip to Black Mirror’s San Junipero, or re-watch Stranger Things from the beginning. If those shows had a musical equivalent, this would be it!

Elasticity by Serj Tankian

And finally on the long-play recommendations, System of A Down frontman Serj Tankian released a new solo EP of tracks originally written for the next SOAD record. This is political activism you will want to mosh to, arriving with all the energy, passion, big riffs and theatrical vocals you’ve come to expect from Serj’s unique music.

Tracks of the Week

Limbo by Royal Blood

Ahead of the release of their third studio album Typhoons, British rockers Royal Blood have dropped one of their most ambitious singles to date, with some hypnotic, psychedelic synths joining their typical heavy riffing.

Buzzcut by Brockhampton (featuring Danny Brown)

Everyone’s famous rap troupe has finally returned, with a hard-hitting new single bolstered by a killer verse from Detroit’s own master wordsmith, Danny Brown.

Last Day On Earth by Beabadoobee

The first track from a new EP co-written and co-produced by The 1975’s Matt Healy and George Daniel, Beabadoobee’s Last Day On Earth is a slice of lockdown-inspired indie-pop heaven.

In Circles by Holding Absence

The latest taster from The Greatest Mistake of My Life is hugely anthemic and packs a big singalong, mightily infectious chorus that will be trapped in your head for days.

Nervous by While She Sleeps (featuring Simon Neil)

Rivalling Holding Absence for the title of biggest anthem of the week are Sheffield-based metalcore outfit While She Sleeps, who have brought in Biffy Clyro’s Simon Neil for this monster new track.

Shake The Cage by Glasvegas

And finally this week, Scottish indie rockers Glasvegas continue their resurgence with Shake The Cage, a spoken-word, piano-driven number that steadily builds into an epic crescendo.

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dammit-stark · 5 years ago

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hi we’re out here missing met gala season so here’s some Concepts of our fav fictional characters (avengers/stevetony and superbat- superbat are the last two) attending the gala and being hot and kicking ass:

the avengers are invited to the met gala the year after the battle of New York and while Bruce kindly opts out (“the big guy and paparazzi don’t exactly get along, Tony” Tony, getting flashbacks of being a teenage son of billionaire, nods. “Okay yeah that’s fair. We’ll sneak some canapés home in Nat’s purse for you, doc”) the rest of them agree to show up and fittingly the theme has to do with good vs evil in light of the battle of New York so of course the designers are so eager to work with the literal heroes (I mean have you seen them, they’re practically models anyway it’s perfect) and Steve keeps going to Tony and asking what all these rules and fittings and “they’re really gonna put me in THAT I don’t know if I’d be comfortable wearing that” bc he’s never done anything even sort of like this and Tony helps him and explains it to him over and over again and even talks to the designers to make sure they put Steve in something he won’t throw up on out of anxiety while nat takes it all in stride of course and clint just really doesn’t care at all as long as they feed him they can put him in whatever he wants and so finally it’s the big day and Tony organizes this dramatic entrance where he flies in with Steve and nat and Clint literally appear out of nowhere (which is impressive bc Nat’s dress is gorgeous and Clint’s suit basically has a train it’s so fucking gaudy and thor flies in just before iron man and cap show up and he’s got this HUGE cape just absolutely GINORMOUS and he looks so hot and they make just this absolutely jaw-dropping quintet and they’re the star of the whole thing anyway I just want them to be thotty and steal the show

(nat wears a black practically skintight dress with a slit running up the side and there’s a gradient at the bottom that makes it almost look like fire and she looks all very femme fatale/1950’s hollywood accented with a very military-looking sash around her belt (only Clint knows that she has a gun strapped to her other thigh) and then Clint wears this tux with a train like the gaudy bitch he is and there’s purple lining along the cuffs and I don’t know how but his biceps are definitely exposed somehow and he basically looks like a badass modern phantom of the opera kinda dude and he rocks it)

(and then there’s thor with his cape and so many sequins and custom metal armor shit and it’s a weird mix between asgardian fashion and modern midfardian fashion bc he had worked with the designers to get something true to him and he has bombass confidence and he’s just happy to be there)

( and then there’s Steve and Tony. Tony comes in stunting obviously bc this is not his first show (yes, he wears red and gold makeup, what about it?) and he does not do things in halves and it’s a black suit in essence but then it’s adorned with all sorts of iron man jewelry that are actual working tech and he literally glows (bc of the tech, it’s a bombass look) and he hovers his way down the carpet so that he matches Steve’s height. And then there’s Steve. Who comes flying in with Tony, not a hair out of place, looking patriotic, hot as FUCK, and very heroic all at the same time. He looks like Prince Charming, it Prince Charming did CrossFit and defended ladies’ honor in his free time. He has this baby blue crushed velvet suit (tailored just the tiniest bit tight- the designers knew EXACTLY what they were doing) that in itself is pretty bold (it doesn’t have a cape or exposed biceps, but the bar is otherwise pretty low considering what most men wear to the met) but the whole thing is completed with little Swarovski crystal stars speckled all over it in homage to his suit )

or how about a designer au where Steve is a big time designer who practically revolutionized the business years ago okay (and he’s known for his incomprehensible youthful glow- seriously he’s like 50 something and still looks like he’s in his 20’s- and also known for his extremely private life) but his word is gospel in the designer community except lately he’s been getting really political and when met season comes around he makes the controversial choice of asking tony stark to wear his designs. While most designers are picking models and celebrities and influencers, Steve’s first choice is the controversial and newly outed iron man. He was famous before all the iron man stuff went down for being a shifty, genius weapons dealer with a penchant for ladies (and men), but his fame has skyrocketed after he saved the world a couple times. But with superheroing fame came a lot of naysayers, calling him a terrorist, a capitalist violence apologist so his reputation is kinda like a bomb at the moment everybody’s keeping their distance. Except for Steve Rogers apparently, who reaches out to him and asks Tony if he’ll allow him the honor of dressing him for upcoming met gala. And Tony’s always loved putting on a good show so he figures why not and does it and he looks great and he’s the talk of everything bc he’s so controversial (Tony absolutely eats it up) but there’s an important point where a member of the press interviews Steve and he asks him why he chose Tony when it was such a controversial choice and Steve gets patriotic as hell and defends the fuck out of Tony and later Tony’s like (“hey, thanks”) and Steve’s like (“anytime”) and then after that THEYRE friends and go on coffee dates and Steve stands by Tony while half the country makes his life hell

Bruce Wayne gets invited to the met gala every year and this year he wants to bring his boyfriend and Clark’s like idk that’s really public what if somebody notices I’m Superman but Bruce guilts him into it and he’s like look this is my life if nobody’s noticed by now you’ll be fine I promise and so billionaire Bruce Wayne brings some journalist nobody from metropolis as his date to the met and everybody is like ???? Who the heck is HE and when somebody from the press asks how they met Bruce says something “like he swept me off my feet” and Clark blushes bc they met when he was Superman and he was flying and saved Bruce or some stupid shit and everybody spots that blush and is like oh sweet country boy I love you and now the world is in love with Clark Kent but somehow still nobody manages to draw the connection between Clark Kent and Superman it’s ridiculous

alternatively, superman is invited to the met gala and while he thinks it’s a horrific idea Bruce is like “oh! I go every year! We can go together! make some trouble, eh?” And then they go and everybody is like why the FUCK are Bruce Wayne and Superman dating how the hell did that happen and the LOOKS OH MY GOD Clark would wear some super gaudy rendition of his Superman outfit he would go all out (because he’s not a fucking coward) and Bruce would be wearing Versace or something amazing and it’d be a simple black suit but with some wicked accents of some sort (maybe a cape??)

#catch me repeatedly calling out the cowards who wear basic suits THERES A THEME FOR A REASON YOU FOOLS FOLLOW IT #I miss the met gala :((((#superbat #stevetony #avengers #Tony stark #Steve rogers #bruce wayne #superman #clark kent #batman #this really got out of hand I'm sorry there are so many words here I hope it doesn't hurt anybody's eyes #remember the other day when I said I have a 63k doc full of prompts??? this is how it happens.#(also peep my designer au obsession)#((I've written at least four full length designer au fics and I have ideas for them I can't explain it))

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almarantha · 4 years ago

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Aurum - A TES Drabble

“You really must take better care of yourself, child.”

Amara’s eyelids shot open at the foreign voice, sending her scrambling to get to her feet. She would forgive herself this moment of impropriety, of weakness. It was a startling thing, being spoken to when you were supposed to be dead. Reaching down, Amara placed a hand over her stomach, searching for a fresh wound that should’ve still been bleeding.

Granted, that wasn’t the only thing that seemed to no longer exist.

There was… nothing around her. No walls. No ceiling. No ground, for that matter. There was a floor beneath her, she could feel it, but actually discerning it was another matter entirely. Her surroundings were but a blank canvas. Filled with anticipation, but nothing had yet been put onto the page. No words had filled the empty void of white. No paint had given color, given life, to the environment.

“Yes, but think of the potential.” The voice mused once more, as if reading her mind.

Amara spun her head around so fast that she feared she might have snapped it. Could she even? She was already dead, right? As is, her lengthy wine-colored hair had likely slapped the owner of the voice in the face. To her left stood an Imperial man, hands calmly folded behind his back. He had a handsome look about him. Square, noble features and umber-hued hair cascaded down his neck. It was a face that could have belonged to a warrior, if not for how scholarly his posture was and how soft he wore his expression. The man smiled softly and tilted his head in acknowledgement, seemingly content to wait for her to measure him up.

His attire was familiar, although Amara couldn’t quite place where she’d seen it before. It was something an Imperial noble would wear, fittingly enough; that much was certain. Long indigo robes were rimmed with white, spotted fur. The robes covered an ornate scarlet doublet decorated with intricate gold patterns. On the whole, it looked inordinately expensive, but nothing more so than the jeweled necklace that the man was wearing. A ruby the size of her fist laid set in a gold casing, while several other, smaller, jewels of different colors rimmed the outside of the amulet.

The ensemble was gorgeous. Any Imperial worth anything would kill to be seen in such an outfit.

And yet it seemed horribly ill-fitting on such a man. Just by looking at him, Amara got the sense that he would have been far more comfortable in much simpler robes. He had that sort of priestly disposition about him. Yes, she could imagine him in a monk’s garb.

“…Who are you? Where am I?” Amara asked slowly, having become more or less acquainted with her surroundings. As much as a Dunmer in a completely foreign environment could, anyway.

The man pursed his lips, as if mulling over what sort of answer he should give. “Those are questions that won’t serve you well here. It would be more apt to ask when.”

It only now occurred to Amara that the man had never once opened his eyes to look at her. He faced her direction and seemed to know where she was, but those eyelids stayed shut. Was the Imperial blind? Amara furrowed her eyebrows at the roundabout answer. Riddles. She hated riddles. Especially riddles coming from mysterious strangers.

“When are we then?” She asked, her tone far more demanding than it used to be. Even a few years ago, that would have been unthinkable. But she’d grown up a lot these past few years. One of the first lessons she’d learned was to not take shit from people if you wanted any modicum of respect.

“Hmm…” The man hummed, contemplating her question. “The Middle Dawn, perhaps? Or maybe the Oblivion Crisis…” He lifted a hand to his chin, gazing upwards at what should be the sky. As it was though, he was staring at nothing. Or, technically, the back of his eyelids. “Ah, no. This is the Fourth Era. The Second Great War, I believe you call it. This is the fifteenth year of the conflict.”

Amara’s eye twitched. “…I knew that already.” She growled out in the most respectful way possible.

“So you did.” The stranger turned his attention, such as it was, back towards the Dunmer. “My apologies for the confusion. Such things come naturally to me, but precision can be difficult. What’s the phrase…? Ah, yes, like a needle in a haystack.” His smile never dimmed, but nor did it grow in intensity. Their entire encounter was marked by that soft, serene smile on his face. It made the stranger give off the impression of peace.

Or maybe he was just insane from being trapped in this strange void? That boded well for her.

Sighing, Amara pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her crimson eyes, attempting to compose herself. That was another lesson. Stay composed. Stay above it all. Never let others know they’re getting to you.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” The stranger’s voice came unbidden, surprising Amara out of her frustrations.

She blinked. The last thing she remembered…

“I was… someplace… where was I…?” It was hard to focus in this place, but she needed to remember… “There were gears… Not the Dwemer kind, not nearly so ancient, but modeled after them.” A stoic face flashed through her mind, violet braids matted with oil. “Zamana was excited. Someone advancing her people’s technology… She wanted to see it. So we went home-“

Wait. Was it her home? She’d visited Mournhold a handful of times, but had never lived there-

Amara snapped her fingers. “Right! The Clockwork City! Almalexia told me she knew a way in and-“

For the third time in a row, Amara cut herself off as a realization hit her. However, this one was far more frantic. It was quiet. Far too quiet. It had been quiet ever since she had arrived at… wherever this was. Amara couldn’t believe it had taken her this long to realize it! There was no prideful voice whispering in her ear. No voice giving out unwanted comments and opinions at every opportunity. No analysis of what was going on, no advice on how to handle this situation.

Almalexia was gone.

“Where is she?!” Amara cried out, aggressively grabbing the stranger’s robes and yanking him forward. “What did you do with her?!” Fury and terror in equal measures danced in her crimson eyes, tinged by the light of budding madness.

Best to head this off at the pass, the man thought.

The stranger carefully placed his hands on top of Amara’s own, his expression serious but not unkind.

Was he pitying her? How dare-!

However, her thought process was cut off as the stranger finally opened his eyes. Amara slumped forward, falling to her knees in abject awe.

Staring down at her were the slitted pupils of a reptile, encompassed by the purest gold that Amara had ever laid eyes on. They were ancient orbs, brimming with power and eternity.

How foolish was she to not see the signs…?

Amara fundamentally knew who she was speaking to now.

“I have done nothing with she who once called herself Ayem.” Akatosh intoned. The smile he had been handsomely wearing was gone, but neither did the dragon god of time look all too upset. “Yet, neither is she gone.”

Amara clutched at her chest, head bowed so the man, the god, before her couldn’t see the tears freely flowing down her face. Her frame shuddered as she breathed deeply. It was as if she was in the midst of a mighty battle, and yet the dragon’s words brought such relief to her! Almalexia wasn’t gone!

But then… where was she…?

Once more, the dragon god answered those thoughts on the surface of her mind. “What do you remember, child?” He repeated the question.

Again with this? What did that have to do with anything…? But it seemed she wouldn’t get anything else out of time itself, so she valiantly wracked her mind for the details. A feat not made easier by her admittedly volatile emotional state… Something that had been becoming more and more common recently.

“We were…” Amara’s voice cracked and shut stopped in her tracks, clearing her throat before continuing. “We were exploring. We found the main chamber. We found… we found the artificial heart. We… I… Oh, ancestors…” Her hand clasped over her mouth.

She’d died.

Rationally, she knew that. She’d known that since awakening in this place. But it was another thing entirely to replay the events in her mind, to hear the grinding gears of the automatons, to remember the cries of Zamana, the blade through her chest…

Daring to look up, she found the dragon god gazing… almost mournfully down at her. All he did was give her a slight nod, confirming her worst suspicions. She really was dead, huh? Amara had never been sure what fate awaited her once her mortal life was done. There wasn’t exactly an Ancestral Tomb waiting for her, and she doubted that House Redoran would look too kindly on allowing her one anyway… She’d burned a lot of bridges, making the roll of the dice and gambling that she would succeed in forging her grandfather’s empire anew… But it seemed that it was not meant to be. She had died too soon.

That still begged the question, however… What was to be her fate? Was this… “Is this the Dreamsleeve?” Amara asked the god.

Akatosh glanced around, observing the surroundings… or lack thereof. “No, I’m afraid not. This is a dream of sorts, but no, this is not the realm of rebirth. Your ultimate fate remains unknown, and it is not my place to speculate on matters of life and death. That is Arkay’s domain, not mine.”

Her ultimate fate…?

“Wait, what do you mean? Am I not dead? Should my soul not be bound for Aetherius or Oblivion?” Amara furrowed her eyebrows, squinting in blatant confusion. “You mention Arkay. I do not worship you Aedra, yet if one were to handle my death, it would be him. I am educated on that much. Yet here you stand, the dragon god of time… Why?”

Akatosh scratched at his clean-shaven chin. On anyone else, it would have looked almost sheepish, but surely the high and mighty Aedra had nothing to be embarrassed about, right?

Why he even had a chin to scratch was another question entirely. The humans depicted him as a dragon. The mer depicted him as a great golden eagle. Was this supposed to be a form she would be comfortable with? An avatar of his will? Amara had so many questions, but frankly, that was the least of them. So, she did not voice it, even though it was abundantly clear that Akatosh could read her mind.

“You have my blood.” The dragon god replied simply.

Amara blinked. What?

“You have my blood.” Akatosh repeated. “Your grandfather was dragonborn, surely you know this. The most famous dragonborn in Tamriel’s long history. The title is named as such for a reason. He was not mine in body, but in spirit… All dragonborn are my children. So in a way, I suppose that makes you my grandchild of sorts. Or great-grandchild. I care little for mortal semantics, however.”

She… okay, that was… wow, a lot to process. The metaphysics of it all… Yes, she had known that all of this was the official Imperial line, but… Well, she’d never exactly put much stock in it.

Akatosh glanced down at her and smiled that damnably soft smile once more, now looking almost, well… grandfatherly. Amara wasn’t convinced, however. Picking herself up off of the ground, she rubbed the dried tears away from her face. To say that she was wary was an understatement.

“And do you make a habit out of conversing with the descendants of dragonborn?” Amara asked dryly. She doubted that he even talked to actual dragonborn all that much, if at all.

The dragon-man shrugged, making the motion look far more dignified than it had any right to be. “Admittedly? No.”

“Then why me?” Amara shot back immediately. “Why are you here? In this… this dream, whatever this is?”

“You are mer.” Akatosh spoke softly. “A Dunmer who once worshipped the mortals who propped themselves up as gods. A Dunmer who does not worship the Three Good Daedra like the rest of your kind. A Dunmer who is unsure where she stands among Aedra and Daedra, and so devotes herself to worldly pursuits instead.”

The dragon god trailed off, looking down at the amulet which laid flat against his chest. Clutching it in his tanned and worn hands, Akatosh lifted it off of his neck and lifted it up so that it was level with his golden gaze.

“Despite all of that,” he continued, “you chose to follow not the path of any of your mer ancestors, noble and just and clever that they were, and instead chose the most difficult path of all. The path of your grandfather. You, Amara Ra’athim, a Dunmer of Resdayn, would restore the Septim Empire. A Cyrodiilic Empire. A human empire. Did you think that you wouldn’t catch our attention?”

Amara had remained silent as the avatar of Akatosh explained himself. And when he phrased it like that…

“People need help. Someone has to do something.” She whispered quietly, mostly to herself. She looked into those ageless eyes across from her ever so briefly, which beckoned her to continue. “Ever since I was a kid… Probably before that… Everything has been going to shit around me. You called me a Dunmer of Resdayn, of Morrowind, but I’m not. My father imparted as much of our culture onto me as he could, but I grew up in Falkreath. I grew up in Skyrim, surrounded by Nords. I’m an outlander, and I worked so hard for so long to erase that stain from myself… But it’ll always be true. It’s just who I am. A Dunmer who grew up outside the homeland, because my father fled after the Red Year.”

Amara sighed, only now realizing how exhausted she felt. She supposed she had the right. She was dead, after all.

“The Great War, the Skyrim Civil War, the return of the dragons, the Interregnum, the Second Argonian Invasion, the Second Great War… It feels like we’re all trapped in a loop of pain and suffering. Everyone everywhere is hurting. And things didn’t used to be that way; dad was always fond of telling me. Father was never fond of the empire that his own father had established, but he was never afraid to admit… Things were just better when the Septims ruled the Empire. When all of Tamriel was more or less at peace. Sure, things weren’t perfect, but the world wasn’t almost ending every few years… There weren’t constant wars with… so much dead.

“I was a healer during the first Great War, you know that right?” Amara asked rhetorically. “Of course you know that. You’re the dragon god of time. But I saw… I saw so much death. So many died in my care, I couldn’t save them…” Her expression became unfocused, her crimson eyes haunted by memories best left buried. “I did my best, I really did. And it was more… it was more than my people as a whole did. They were just content to sit idly by and let others suffer. I can’t- I couldn’t… I could help. I could help so I had a responsibility to do so!”

Her fists clenched tightly and a fire roared in her stomach, determination rising up in her throat until she felt the urge to roar. For the first time, she met the dragon god’s gaze and kept at it, refusing to let the mere glance of a god bend her into submission.

“I am the granddaughter of Tiber Septim. I am the Anticipation of Almalexia, with all of her wisdom and training at my side. I had the ability and the means to help Tamriel, so I decided to do it. And if you tell me the way out of here, I will continue to do it. I don’t care if I’m dead, someone has to do something!”

Amara was breathing heavily as she finished her speech. In a lot of ways, it felt like justifying it to herself more than to the dragon god. How often had she questioned herself? How often had she wondered if she was just letting Almalexia convince her to do things? Well, Almalexia wasn’t here right now. This was all her.

Akatosh remained silent for a long moment more, before finally nodding in satisfaction. He held the amulet out to Amara, letting it dangle off of his fingers. “Did you know…” He rumbled, sounding more like a dragon by the moment. Ancient and all powerful. “That it used to be that whenever an emperor was chosen, they had to hold this amulet and light the dragonfires? It was a symbol of my everlasting covenant with man, that so long as a dragonborn sat on the Ruby Throne, the gates of Oblivion would be shut.” He paused. “It was more than just a symbol, naturally. Since St. Alessia, no one could light the dragonfires without my approval or consent. It is I who judged each emperor worthy. If they aren’t… they don’t tend to last very long.”

The amulet dangling off of his fingers glistened, twirling slowly as the dragon god told his story.

“No one has worn this amulet or lit the dragonfires since the Oblivion Crisis. The amulet was destroyed. The last emperor of the Septim Dynasty, a righteous young man named Martin, sacrificed himself to seal the gates of Oblivion shut forever. The dragonfires no longer have any purpose, and it will remain that way. However… perhaps I have torn my gaze from the empire I claim to patron for too long. Perhaps it is time for the Amulet of Kings to be worn once more, as a symbol of my divine providence.”

Reaching forward, Akatosh lifted the amulet over Amara’s head and settled it on her shoulders. The giant ruby thrummed against her chest, and Amara couldn’t help but wonder if this is what the legendary Heart of Lorkhan felt like?

“I…” She tried to speak, but no words came out. Instead, Amara dropped to her knees, but in a far more orderly and dignified manner than her previous descent. She knelt before Akatosh, head bowed as if she were speaking to her liege lord. “I promise that I won’t let you down.”

“I very much suspect that you won’t.” Akatosh intoned his voice more of a growl than it ever was, yet somehow felt amused. Like he was chuckling to himself. “From this moment on, you are dragonborn much in the same way St. Alessia herself once was. The covenant is reborn. Now, my child, look up.”

Amara did as she was commanded, yet could not help her mouth dropping out from under her. For before her was no man. The mighty golden dragon of time stretched out before her, infinite in all of his glory. She saw him as he truly was, not merely stretched out before her in this plane, but across all of time as well. It was enough to render her blind. Or mad. Or dead. The fact that she was only one out of those three things was likely due to the grace of Akatosh himself… And the fact that she was already dead.

“At this point, I would normally send you off. However, there is… one more thing to attend to.” The dragon forced out. His voice was far deeper than it had once been. The voice before had felt borrowed, but this… This was the voice of time echoing throughout her very being. “Tell me, child, what do you remember?”

This again?

“I died.” Wasn’t that all there was to it?

“And, pray tell, how did you die?”

“I was run through by a blade.” Amara responded automatically. But that couldn’t be what he wanted to hear. The memory was fuzzy, there had to be more to it… Who had wielded the blade? Some sort of…

Oh.

“The Clockwork City, it was being run by… some sort of ghost. Except it wasn’t a ghost. I don’t know how to explain it, but… Sotha Sil, one of the Old Tribunal, was in the city itself. And he wanted revenge against Almalexia because she had killed his body centuries ago. Zamana and I fought through his machines… We reached the chamber where his mind was being held. He had made some sort of… dwarven metal body for himself. We fought. I killed the body, but the mind still persisted, we couldn’t kill it. Then… then he had reinforcements…”

She clutched her head, trying to remember.

“I remember Almalexia screaming… She was so angry… And so terrified. I could feel it all inside me. Another Dunmer walked into the room. Seht’s reinforcements. It was… It was the Neravarine.” Amara glanced up helplessly at Akatosh. “…The Neravarine killed me.”

The infinite dragon nodded. “And in so doing, completed the final piece of the puzzle. You must understand, my child… Amara Ra’athim is dead. She cannot come back.”

Amara slumped, her assumption shattered. Akatosh had chosen her, but she could not return. Was all of this for nothing?

But, naturally, the dragon could read her thoughts. “You misunderstand, child. Amara Ra’athim is dead. But you are not Amara Ra’athim.”

…What?

Her disbelief must have shown on her face, because Akatosh continued. “Almalexia did not have your best interests in mind, child. Ever since she became attached to your soul those many years ago, she has lived in your shadow. Feeding off of you. Whispering in your ear. Plotting. It was her intention that you were to be her avenue to resurrection. So she influenced you to the best of her ability. She trained you. Molded you. Guided you. You, who was raised to worship her since you could walk, never thought to question it until it was far too late. She made you like her. She led you into the Clockwork City on purpose, having a good idea of what was down there. She needed you to follow the beats of her life so that you would understand her, and in that understanding…”

“She wanted me to mantle her…” Amara whispered.

Akatosh nodded. “Indeed. You asked me earlier if Almalexia is gone and where she went? Nowhere. She has gone nowhere and is not, in fact, gone. You are Almalexia. Almalexia is you.”

“I did it?” The woman formerly known as Amara asked, utterly dumbfounded. “I mantled Almalexia? But… I don’t feel like her. I still remember being me.”

“Have you? Do you not feel like her? To mantle her, you had to become so much like her that there ceased to be a functioning difference between the two of you. That the Aurbis itself could not tell the two of you apart. Do you not know things that you hadn’t before? Do you not have memories that Amara Ra’athim never experienced? You are ALM. But there is a caveat to that.”

“…Well what’s one more earth shattering realization, right?” She quipped, not knowing how else to cope by this point.

To his infinite credit, Akatosh took it in good humor, chuckling along with her. “The mantling did not occur as Almalexia had planned. She forgot to factor in one, crucial element…” He let the moment drag out. Imagine that, a god with a sense of dramatic timing. Then again, he was the god of time…

“The mortal element. For all that she spent millennia as a god and being worshipped as one. Almalexia forgot what it was like to be mortal. It drove her mad before her death, but when she had no choice but to endure it while her spirit was stuck to you… Almalexia went out of her way to influence you, however what she failed to realize was that you were influencing her in turn. Not intentionally, mind you, just simply by you being there. The bond the two of you shared was intimate by any metric. To put it in mortal terms… You rubbed off on her. She became more like you as you became more like her.”

“So we…” ALM began, trying to wrap her head around the idea. Former divine or not, it made her mind spin.

“Mantled each other.” Akatosh confirmed. “You are one.”

ALM couldn’t help but note that he looked insufferably smug about that. But then again, he would. The Tribunal had never had the best relationship with the Aedra. She lifted her hand to rub her temple in an attempt to alleviate the budding headache, but she noticed something.

“…My hand is gold.” ALM noted dully. Because of course it was. Almalexia’s skin had been gold, the last Chimer in existence, and now her skin was gold too. Because she was her. And yet was Amara too. By the Ancestors, she was going to need a mirror later.

“The veil is lifted.” Akatosh rumbled. “You see yourself for what you truly are now. More than a mortal, less than a god. Somewhere in the middle. A soul retroactively made dragonborn and a soul that still held a spark of the divinity it carried for millennia. The two together… It is not unlike the ascension of Talos, although perhaps not as grand. Which is for the best. I require you on Nirn for the time being.”

“Right…” ALM muttered. “I need… to lie down. And I can’t very well do that here. Do you know the way out of here?”

“Indeed. Our time here grows short as is. I have spoken all that has need to be said, and your Dwemer companion will require your assistance if she is to survive the night. Although, I must warn you… The method of return will not be pleasant.”

“Whatever you have to do…” ALM sighed one last time, before giving the dragon god a soft smile to match the one he once wore. “And for what it’s worth… Thank you. This all… It really means a lot.”

Akatosh nodded, rumbling in confirmation. “You are worthy. Never forget that, even in your darkest days.”

Then, without any warning or pretense, Akatosh opened his maw and swallowed her whole.

Because being eaten by the dragon god of time in order to return to the land of the living just seemed logical after the day she’d had, she thought as she slid down the divine gullet. Hmm. She was going to need a new name, wasn’t she? Amara and Almalexia were dead, yet lived. They were one.

Almarantha sounded pretty good.

#;drabble #;amara #;almalexia #;almarantha #y; 4E216 #concept; mantling #concept; alessian dragonborn #aedra; akatosh

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jonathantaylorthomas · 6 years ago

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Taylor Swift’s Reputation Stadium Tour was the most fun I ever had, and I’d do it over and over and over again if I could

Elizabeth EntenmanJuly 22, 2018 1:26 pm Last fall, I participated in #TaylorSwiftTix to buy Reputation Tour tickets. Nearly eight months later, on Saturday, July 21st, all of my dreams finally came true: I got to see Taylor Swift live in concert during her Reputation Stadium Tour. Though after seeing her perform for the first time (finally), I don’t know if “concert” is the right word to describe what Taylor does on stage. She puts on a true spectacular. By now, you may have seen pictures from her stadium tour setup: the flames, the outfit changes, the larger-than-life snakes (plural), the flying mechanisms that take her around the entire stadium, the literally tilted stage that she references in Look What You Made Me Do. But pictures and videos hardly do it justice. Especially when it’s all happening in the pouring rain, like it did last night. So, if you’re wondering what it’s like to see Taylor live and in concert during her Reputation era, consider this your official Reputation Tour review.

Saturday’s show at MetLife Stadium in East Rutherford, New Jersey was the second of three she performed over the weekend. The rain was never a question; it was clear that it was in the forecast for the entire evening. Openers Charli XCX and Camila Cabello performed in the rain, which only picked up as the night went on. The crowd was a sea of plastic ponchos. Taylor knew it was going to be a wet show. So instead of praying for it to pass, she embraced it. From the moment Taylor stepped on stage, she sang, danced, and played her heart out. And, honestly? I think she had even MORE fun as a result. So did the crowd.

After opening with “…Ready for It?” and “I Did Something Bad,” Taylor paused to acknowledge that “your real friends show up in rain or shine,” a cheeky nod to her Reputation lyric “Here’s a toast to my real friends.” And she was right. Nobody ran for cover. Nobody watched from the concessions stands. Taylor came to dance and sing in the rain, so we did, too.

Then, after treating the crowd to one more Reputation song (“Gorgeous”), Taylor switched gears. She took us back a few years to her 1989 era with “Style.” But then, the first REAL throwback came. When the recognizable country beat dropped for “Love Story,” everyone went absolutely wild. And when she mashed it up with “You Belong with Me,” the Fearless stans (ME!) all but passed out from excitement.

After the quick trip back to 2008, Taylor brought it back to 2018 with “Look What You Made Me Do” — complete with a gigantic snake and a hilarious video cameo from Tiffany Haddish, who delivered the line about the Old Taylor being dead. After “End Game,” “King of My Heart,” and “Delicate” (which she sang while flying above the crowd to another stage in a different part of the stadium), Taylor switched things up yet again. But not before addressing the rain again, calling the night “a once in a lifetime concert.”

Charli XCX and Camila Cabello came back to sing “Shake it Off,” and then Taylor slowed things down. She thanked us yet again for coming out to see her perform on such a wet night. From there, things got acousic: She grabbed a guitar and sang an unplugged version of “Dancing with Our Hands Tied.” Then, where some of her Reputation Tour setlists included the beloved ballad “All to Well” from her Red era, she made a last-minute switch and surprised the audience with “Fearless” — a song that, fittingly, references dancing in the rain.

Picture of Reputation Tour Review Kevin Mazur / TAS18 / Getty Images From there, she walked — yes, walked, as if it was the most casual thing ever — through the crowd to reach yet another stage on the other side of the stadium. The moment symbolized a lot about Taylor’s love for her fans: She wanted to see, meet, and interact with as many fans as possible. And despite her, ahem, reputation, I truly believe that she genuinely cares about her Swifties. Walking through the crowd was yet another way to give her fans what she could of herself.

On the third stage, the era callsbacks got serious. After “Blank Space” and “Dress,” while making her way back to the main stage (flying above the crowd in yet another giant snake), she mashed up “Bad Blood” and “Should’ve Said No,” a song from her very first album. Reader, I screamed. If there had been a roof on the house, Taylor would’ve blown it clear off. And if it didn’t happen then, it would’ve happened during the next song, “Don’t Blame Me.”

In the most emotional part of the night, Taylor sat down at the piano to play “Clean” (another rain song!), “Long Live,” and, finally, “New Year’s Day.” I cried. Everyone around me cried. I even think Taylor cried.

For her grand finale, Taylor ended strong with three Reputation songs: “Getaway Car,” “Call It What You Want,” and “This is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things.” She even mashed the last song up with “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together,” which was a final nice surprise for Red era fans.

Here’s my Reputation Tour review: Taylor Swift is a dynamite entertainer.

She sang, danced, and played her heart out in the pouring, unrelenting rain. For over two hours. There were no special guests. There was no squad presentation. It was just us and Taylor, deciding not to let the bad weather get us down, choosing to have the best night of our lives.

I was struck by just how grateful Taylor was for not just the crowd, but for everybody in the arena. Throughout the concert, she took the time to introduce us to her band, her backup singers, and her dancers. She thanked everybody behind the scenes for helping her put on the show — and one that went off without a hitch in the pouring rain, at that. Taylor never made heart hands, but she didn’t have to. We knew.

When all was said and done and the lights came back on, a message quickly flashed on the screen: “And in the death of her reputation, she felt truly alive.” The Old Taylor may be dead, but a part of her definitely lives on in her new reputation. Thank you, Taylor, for an unforgettable night. And for always reminding me that instead of hiding under an umbrella, it’s much more fun to dance in the rain.

#reputation tour review

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lovetheplayers · 6 years ago

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Taylor Swift brings so many nice things to Heinz Field on Reputation tour

Taylor Swift ended her concert Tuesday night singing “This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things,” and while the song might be about love, respect and interpersonal drama, we can say for sure that Taylor Swift has nice things.

Some of those things showed up in a shiny fleet of trucks carrying a concert production into Heinz Field that was the most elaborate we’ve seen since U2’s 360 Tour in 2011. It took 80 trucks, in fact, many stylized with her image, to haul the 110-foot tall main stage and two sizable satellite stages in the opposing end zone.

It takes a big stage to hold a big talent.

And the 28-year-old mega-star from Reading, Pa., has proven that many times over in a career that started quaintly and countrified, in flowered dresses, at 16. Over the last decade, as she’s gravitated toward electropop and EDM, her romantic life has been like a Hershey Park rollercoaster that propels her album narratives and keeps her fans with their hands in the air.

“Reputation,” the focus of Tuesday’s show, is another wild ride, a jet-setting, alcohol-fueled one, with a few different guys in the mix and a couple detours to address the haters.

That explains the snakes, a running reputation tour theme taking a direct shot at nemesis Kim Kardashian West mocking her on social media with a snake emoji. A giant inflatable cobra loomed over her and the dancers while she shed her anger on “Look What You Made Me Do.” It came with a Tiffany Haddish onscreen cameo for the part where fans are told that the the “old Taylor” can’t come to the phone -- “because she’s dead.”

Tuesday’s eye-popping spectacle, for a sold-out crowd of 56,445, navigated the album’s story in six acts, starting in bad-girl mode with Swift, in a black sequined bodysuit and thigh-high boots, arriving after Joan Jett’s “Bad Reputation” to strut the stage to the heavy beat of “...Ready for It?,” the closest she gets to hip-hop.

The high stage came to life with tiers of red lights, topped with sirens, while bracelets glowed on the screaming fans. You could feel the heat of the flames and fireworks shooting from the top of the stage on “I Did Something Bad.”

“Well, good evening, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania,” she said. “The first time I sang in this stadium, I was 15 years old and I was singing the national anthem at a Steelers game, and I remember thinking this was an unfathomable amount of people to be in this room… And here we are, this is my fifth time headlining in this space [it’s actually the fourth] and I’m so grateful.”

In the first of many compliments to the fans, she added, “Looking out at this crowd, you guys are really taking it up a notch. You’re not only singing the words but actively screaming them.”

Indeed, they were, in all varieties of Taylor-ed outfits.

There will be future tours where Swift takes a long, loving look back at her full career, but these recent productions are mostly about the right now. Some of the greatest hits were served in snippets and medleys, like the first tangent away from “reputation” with “Style” and hearty crowd sing-alongs on “Love Story” and “You Belong With Me.”

Act 2, the snakiest part of the set, came with “Endgame,” minus the Ed Sheeran and Future parts, and a “King of My Heart,” powered by towering tribal drums.

“These are songs I usually wrote alone in a room,” she said, adding that some came out of “loneliness, confusion.”

One of those was “Delicate,” a ballad from the new album where she drops her guard to embrace a new love. It was sung while floating over the crowd in a lighted chariot to a b-stage, also equipped with blow-up snakes. There, she changed the groove to an aerobic workout to “Shake It Off,” joined by fun-loving opening acts Charli XCX and Camila Cabello. For the first time, you could actually feel the stadium shaking under your feet.

While she was out there, fans got the first of those cherished just-Taylor moments. She told fans that the lighted bracelets helped her see everyone there. Stripped down to an acoustic guitar, she was free to chat -- about this being the most fun she ever had on tour -- and vary the setlist, strumming through an upbeat “Dancing With Our Hands Tied” and going way back to her roots with a Pennsylvania-written song, “A Place in this World.” Did the young fans know the words to a song from her first album? Of course they did!

Swift made her sideways dash across the field on foot, slapping hands along the way, to the other satellite stage for “Act 4.” A rousing “Blank Space” slid perfectly into “Dress,” with a light, airy vocal for the seductive come-on “I only bought this dress so you could take it off.”

One of the other nice things in the trucks was a silver coiled snake with glowing red eyes that carried her back to the main stage, all aglow again in red, while she belted out a booming “Bad Blood” that had to be heard in the North Hills. Same with “Should've Said No,” so thunderous it felt like the end of the show.

Instead, she settled back down. Seated at a gorgeous marble grand piano, she thanked the 200 to 300 people who travel with the show and “the thousands of people from Pittsburgh [working at the stadium] who helped build the stage and will clean up the confetti.”

We got the best sense of how pretty her voice can be while she was at the piano for the fragile “Long Live” mixed with “New Year’s Day.”

She launched the show’s final run, fittingly, with the Bonnie and Clyde fantasy “Getaway Car,” backed by desert scenes, arriving at “Call It What You Want,” singing of new love on the run, from her detractors and her semi-bad reputation.

Can a Taylor Swift concert have a pure, sweet, happy-ever-after ending?

Not really. She brought it to a fun, fiery conflicted conflicted one by stomping through breakup/revenge songs “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together” and “This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things” with fireworks and then lightning lit up the North Shore.

Once again, Swift demonstrated that while her much-documented love life might have its ups and downs, there are few performers more natural on a stage and more connected with her fans. They left Heinz Field with the feeling that, yeah, we can have nice things.

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